Cooked Alive
by Xazz
Summary: "How long do you plan to imprison me?" Altair asked him laying down his limbs grateful to no longer be moving. "For as long as it takes," was Malik's reply. -oneshot-


Altair didn't know what had possessed him to think this would have been a good idea. It was just past the middle of the day and he was outside under the sun. He'd wanted to get his mission over quickly, yes, that had been it, and that was why he was in this current situation.

The bells rang loudly and hurt Altair's delirious brain. Even inside the garden box that provided shade from the relentless sun was stifling and not a whisper of breeze teased the edges of the draping and made the garden into a hot box in which Altair felt like he was being cooked from the inside out as sweat dribbled down his face, chest and limbs dampening his robes to make them heavy and stick to his skin. He couldn't stay here or he was sure he would die. The idea of going out into the fierce blaze of the sun was only slightly more inviting then being cooked alive and he peered out through one of the small gaps in the fabric. There were no guards in sight so Altair slipped from the garden box and trying not to move to quickly and overwork himself in this sort of demanding weather made his way back to the bureau. His hood provided his face some shade and he was glad to be wearing white, though the heavy linen robes seemed to have the opposite effect white should have had.

At some point Altair stood at the edge of a building, or he thought it was edge because it kept shifting under his feet and one moment would seem far away while simotaniously was just under his toes or even at the back of his heels. He decided since he hadn't fallen that he wasn't to close to the edge, but couldn't pick out how close he was exactly so he just decided to jump. His fingertips caught the edge of the building's roof across the street and they held for only a moment or so before he couldn't hold himself from them and dropped onto a balcony under it, legs crumpling under him.

Delirious Altair sank against the side of the building trying to make his eyes focus and his limbs stop hurting so much and make his breathing not be so terribly ragged. But none of these things other than the evening of breath happened. There was no shade where he was either up against the building except for his hood and sweat was pouring down his face and clouding his vision, all the while the bells clanged off in the distance and echoed noisily in Altair's head making his eyes swim in the very sound of the.

He needed to find shade and water, not an easy thing to do mid day in a city almost solely surrounded by a vast desert. The vision of a fountain filled his mind and pushing away his dizziness he stood on shaky legs, determined to keep moving.

The expedition there seemed to last an eternity and finally when Altair saw the latticed roof of the building he almost fell right into it only managing to twist himself around to his feet just before he landed. He groaned softly swaying as he stood and stumbled over to the fountain in the bureau and plunged his head into it not even bothering to remove his hood.

"Back I see novice," Malik said from the cool darkness of the bureau when Altair raised his head from the fountain dripping wet but said nothing before his body refused to continue functioning in such conditions and his feet slipped from under him. He distinctly remembered his head striking the floor as his body shut down.

—

He was someplace cool and comfortable when he woke up. After a few seconds he already realized he'd been stripped of all his clothing save for his pants. Sitting up Altair squinted in the darkness of the cool room before realizing he was in one of the back rooms of the bureau where wounded assassins were allowed to stay while they healed before returning to Masyaf. There was a strange pressure on his head and when he reached his hand up he felt bandages, right; he'd hit his head.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed eyes more ready to focus then they had been before but his limbs still felt weak, though not so much that when he demanded that they let him stand that crumpled under him. After briefly looking around he found he couldn't locate his belongings and grumbled to himself as he made his legs move him towards the main room of the bureau where Malik sat behind his desk doing whatever it was Dais' did.

He must have not been to quiet, he hardly could be after all when he had to catch himself so he didn't just fall through the doorway, because Malik turned swiftly to give him a bit of an annoyed glared. "What are you doing out of bed?" he snapped.

"I feel fine," he croaked, "Where are my clothes?"

Malik's visage didn't change as he said "I hid them."

Altair blinked, "Excuse me?"

"You'll get them back once I've decided you're in no danger of hurting yourself with your own stupidity," he growled.

Altair slipped away from the doorframe towards the Dai, "Return my gear," he said with as firm a voice as he could.

"No. Now go do as your _superior_ tells you and rest," Malik's voice was even more firm. "If you don't I'll put you there by force," he warned.

"If that is supposed to be a threat I am not impressed," Altair said hating that his limbs still felt to flimsy to move correctly and he knew that if Malik lived up to his words it wouldn't take to much for the other man to make him do as he said.

"Go back to bed Altair, you suffered from heat stroke," Malik ordered him and stood up.

"I'm fine," he growled, "Now return my gear so I may return to the Master."

"No." Altair wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of starting a petty, childish argument like this so he just stood there instead glaring at him. "You can stand there all day Altair, but I'm not giving you your stuff back," he said now a bit amused. "So you might as well rest like I'm telling you too."

"And I'm telling you I feel fine," he said.

"Of course, because people who are fine need to hold onto door frames to stay vertical," and before Altair could stop him Malik had turned him around and forcibly shoved him back into the dark room. "If I have to stay here and ensure you don't leave to do something stupid I will," he told Altair after practically tossing him into the cot and Altair hated that he was so weak from the sun, and just the sun. His lips curved downward slightly looking very much between a pout and a frown.

Briefly he wondered if he could sneak past Malik, but the man was standing right over him, dark eyes narrowed slightly as if he already knew Altair was plotting to try and leave when he wasn't looking. "Fine, I will rest," he sighed, "May I at least have my shirt back?" he asked.

"I suppose that is fair," and the Dai left returning shortly with the thin white undergarment and tossed it Altair's head. Any other time he would have caught it but his reactions were still sluggish and it ended up striking his face. He shrugged it on, Malik still watching him sternly.

"How long do you plan to imprison me?" Altair asked him laying down his limbs grateful to no longer be moving.

"For as long as it takes," was Malik's reply and he left the dark room and went back to his post at his desk. Altair sighed but did not get up again and simply rolled over on the cot his body soaking in the coolness brought by the darkness and quickly found himself asleep.

-fin-


End file.
